


Easy Does It

by froggy (therealfroggy)



Series: Striptease [6]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Beach Sex, M/M, Multi, Outdoor Sex, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:47:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/froggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 'missing scenes' from <em>Night Swimming</em>. Where did Sucre get off to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easy Does It

“Hey, Papi, mind if I –” Sucre's voice died in his throat when Michael, an apologetic grin on his face, turned quickly away from his brother, who – in turn – gave a disappointed groan. From the way Michael's arm muscles had been flexing, there was no doubt in Sucre's mind as to what he had been doing just under the surface.

“You just won't stop, will you?” Sucre muttered, turning away as if to leave.

“Wait,” Michael said, moving towards him in the water. It reached well above their hips, for which Sucre was grateful. Lincoln soon followed his brother towards the obviously embarrassed Puerto Rican.

“I should leave you two alone, man,” Sucre said, looking warily at his former cellie.

Michael shook his head. “Why don't you join us?”

Sucre just stared at him. Join them? As in, sex?

“But you're not a queer, right?” Lincoln said, grinning. Sucre wordlessly shook his head.

“Fine,” Michael laughed, “then I'll be the faggot.” Placing his hands on Sucre's shoulders, he leaned his forehead against the other man's. “All you have to do, is lean back and enjoy. Unwind a bit.” Then he tentatively dipped his head to nip lightly at Sucre's collar bone.

“Yeah, you seem pretty tense, Sucre,” Lincoln stated, moving around him to start kneading his shoulders and upper back.

Sucre sighed and leaned into Lincoln's touch. Damn it but that was tempting. He could feel the knots in his shoulders melt away under strong hands while uneasy arousal snaked through him from where Michael's hands were stroking slowly down his sides, sweeping over his hip bones and barely brushing his thighs before moving back up.

“Okay,” he said hoarsely. After all he'd heard – and seen – the other guys do over the last couple of days, he just didn't have the willpower to deny himself this release. And he remembered what Michael's mouth had felt like on the night of their show; he couldn't really blame the others for wanting that.

“You just relax, then,” Michael murmured, his head dipping again. Sucre closed his eyes and tipped his head back as wet lips blazed a trail down his throat, over his shoulder, across his chest, stopping at –

Sucre gasped as Michael's tongue found his nipple. At the exact same time, Lincoln slipped his hands around him from behind, the other man pressing against him. Sucre felt his breath hitch when one big hand brushed against his arousal, then a hot mouth fastened onto his shoulder. The brothers' movements were completely in synch as one tongued his nipple, the other stroke him gently under water.

“You... do this a lot?” he stuttered, not able to ignore the fact that he felt Lincoln hard against his back as the taller man pleasured him. “I mean... the two of you, another guy...”

“Not before we ran off, but actually, increasingly often since the night before the show,” Michael said, grinning against the taut skin of Sucre's chest.

Sucre's reply drowned in a moan as Lincoln tightened the grip on him and pressed even closer. “If you can still talk, I must be doing something wrong,” he laughed.

“Oh shit,” Sucre gasped, thrusting into Lincoln's hand. Michael continued to lick, nip and suck at his skin, teasing and wakening every single nerve ending.

“Come on, Sucre,” Michael whispered, “you know you want to.” Then he took a deep breath and disappeared under water. Sucre was about to ask where the hell his friend went when he felt fiery heat replace Lincoln's hand on his cock.

“Papi!” Sucre came the instant he felt those lips close around him, thrusting forwards and groaning loudly. Big hands held him steady at the hips as Michael's tongue swirled around him; Sucre could only let his head fall back and his body tense up as he spilled his release into that devilish mouth.

“You trying to drown yourself?” Lincoln asked jokingly as Michael resurfaced, water running down his face. Sucre couldn't help but notice how good Michael looked like that, moonlight and everything.

“Well, that wasn't water I swallowed,” Michael grinned, making Sucre blush. “But we could move just a bit.”

Sucre, too drained to argue, started wading slowly towards the beach. Michael started to follow him, but with a playful smirk, Lincoln threw himself at his brother, pulling them both under. When they reappeared, Lincoln was carrying Michael _Bay Watch_ style.

“Put me down, Linc,” Michael laughed, coughing up the water he'd swallowed in surprise.

“Nope,” Lincoln grinned.

Sucre watched, unsure whether to roll his eyes or laugh, as Lincoln walked to where the water barely lapped at his knees. He knelt in the water. The younger man in his arms was then unceremoniously dropped into said water, causing him to splash around a great deal more than necessary before he managed to sit up.

“Hey, stop trying to drown your brother, man,” Sucre said, the laughter finally winning out when Michael grabbed Lincoln's shoulder for support as he coughed and sputtered, laughing and cursing in between.

“I'm not trying,” Lincoln said, “I'm succeeding.”

“No you're not,” Michael said, placing a hand around Lincoln's neck. “Try again.”

Sucre was about to protest that he should go when Michael pulled his brother's head down for an intense kiss. The Puerto Rican found he couldn't even close his mouth as Lincoln and Michael deepened the kiss, pushing closer and...

“You wanna join, Sucre?” Lincoln asked, breaking loose for a moment. “Or just watch?”

Fernando Sucre didn't reply; he couldn't tear his eyes away from the way Michael was panting and squirming as Lincoln's hand disappeared under water. The older brother's arm was flexing and moving; there could only be one thing he was doing. Involuntarily, Sucre felt himself grow hard again. He slid to his knees in the water, sitting back on his heels to watch.

“Linc, wait,” Michael moaned, placing a hand on his brother's arm to stop him. “What do you say we show Sucre what he's missing out on with the other guys?”

“Papi, I ain't doing _anything_ with Abruzzi or T-Bag!” Sucre said, feeling uneasy at the thought alone. _Eeeeww..._

“That's not what I meant,” Michael said, smiling and crawling towards his former cellie on hands and knees. Sucre swallowed heavily. Men shouldn't be able to look that hot when they did that. Sucre started retreating; scrambling backwards while still sitting, he only stopped when Michael put a warm hand on his knee.

“Relax, Sucre. Lincoln is right; you're too tense.”

Lincoln moved up close behind his brother, and Michael turned to whisper something in the older man's ear. Lincoln grinned, rather predatory-like, and winked at Sucre. “You're gonna love this.”

Apprehensively, Sucre lay back on his elbows, stretching his legs out in front of him. Michael moved closer yet and ran his hands up the nervous man's thighs. Then he dipped his head and started licking his way down Sucre's stomach, still on hands and knees.

“Watch,” Lincoln tempted when Sucre's eyes slid shut as Michael's mouth neared his cock again. There was just too many sensations at once, but Sucre forced his eyes open and the sight that met him made him groan and harden even more.

Michael's lips were fastened around him, swallowing down inch after inch of hard flesh. The heat of his mouth combined with the look on his face as he started moving his head up and down, made him possibly the most erotic sight Sucre had ever seen.

Until Lincoln started moving. Sucre could see him reach down to grip Michael's hip with one hand, shifting behind his brother. Then Michael gave a whimper, his lips pressing even closer around Sucre, and pushed back against his brother's hips.

“You... shit, Sink,” Sucre panted, “you fucking him right now?”

Michael gave an affirmative moan, and Lincoln started thrusting forwards. For each thrust, Michael was pushed towards Sucre, his lips sliding over the other man's erection in synch with his brother's movements. Sucre groaned loudly in the night and failed in refraining from bucking up into Michael's mouth.

“You okay, Mike?” Lincoln said, pushing firmly into the younger man. Michael just pushed back harder, increasing his efforts on the cock in his mouth.

“Fuck yes,” Sucre panted, “he's fine!”

As Michael started moaning around him, Sucre couldn't hold on any longer. He let himself fall to his back with a strangled cry of, “Papi, _Dios_ , don't stop!” He came, fisting Michael's hair as he pulled on the other man's head, pushing up into his mouth as he climaxed. As the last waves of orgasm coursed through him, Sucre could feel Michael swallow around him. He shivered.

“Lincoln,” Michael gasped as he released Sucre from his mouth, “harder!”

Lincoln groaned at the sound of his brother begging for more, and held Michael's hips steady as he thrust hard into the younger man. Michael was still leaning over Sucre and the Puerto Rican watched, entranced, as Michael's brow furrowed in pleasure, his eyes slipped shut and he whimpered needily.

“Michael,” Lincoln moaned, “come on, baby; let go...”

And Michael did; gasping loudly, he arched his back and came, once more letting go of reality for just a few heartbeats. Sucre was unable to tear his eyes away as Michael sank forwards, leaning his head on the Puerto Rican's stomach as Lincoln grunted behind him and jerked into him one last time.

“God,” Michael muttered, shifting off Sucre, “I could get used to this life.”

Lincoln, breathing heavily, laid down next to his brother, the water tickling his sides. “Me too. Shit, the look on your faces...” The last with a grin directed at Sucre.

Sucre swallowed, embarrassingly aware of how his cheeks were heating up. “Hey, your fault,” he defended, then, as an afterthought, added, “Blame it on the testosterone.”

Michael laughed. “Yeah. Leave it to testosterone to destroy existence.”

“No, not destroy it,” Lincoln said, “just mess it up real bad.”

And if Sucre hadn't just had the most intense sexual experience of his life, he might just have agreed with that.


End file.
